


Approaching A Stray

by QuillFeathers



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cats, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, POV change (2nd chapter), Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-20 22:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21289424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillFeathers/pseuds/QuillFeathers
Summary: Voice cracking on his final plea for the cat to come down, Felix had almost started crying while he and Dimitri waited for them to return.“It doesn't know that we want to help,” the prince had said, hand grasping Felix's as he walked them a bit away, pulling the other boy down to sit next to him against a different tree.“I wish it could understand me,” Felix sniffled.As kids they had once found an injured cat. Somehow there were a lot of parallels to the present.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 8
Kudos: 136





	1. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on tea time Felix likes cats and Dimitri might not.  
Post-time skip Dimitri is feral/astray.  
Felix may be a little lost.  
So obviously...cats.

Once, when they were still children, the four of them came across a small orange tabby cat that was limping badly on one of its hind legs.

They'd been playing in a small patch of trees within the grounds of Fhirdiad Castle, Ingrid pointing out the retreating form when it darted out from under a shrub. When they tried to catch it it of course pulled itself up a tree, ears held tightly flat at its head even as it clearly struggled; grip of the bad foot repeatedly slipping, blood glistening behind it as it gained height. The tree's limbs were much too thin to support any attempt to climb up after it. Eventually Sylvain took Ingrid back inside with him to hunt down scraps so they could try to coax it to within reach.

Voice cracking on his final plea for the cat to come down, Felix had almost started crying while he and Dimitri waited for them to return.

“It doesn't know that we want to help,” the prince had said, hand grasping Felix's as he walked them a bit away, pulling the other boy down to sit next to him against a different tree.

“I wish it could understand me,” Felix sniffled.

Dimitri squeezed his hand. “It might hurt itself more if we keep chasing it. That's why we'll try and make friends by giving it food.”

In the end they just left the offering at the base of the tree. The cat had merely started bathing itself, resolute in waiting them out.

Yet when Felix had next visited the capital Dimitri led him back to the edge of the patch. The tabby was there, the foot all healed up. It sat expectantly under a poorly-constructed shelter consisting of sticks pushed into the ground, a small old blanket draped over their points, and rocks haphazardly set on the edges to hold it down in slight wind. With a greeting meow the cat had come out to meet them, rubbing itself on Dimitri's legs when he laid scraps on the ground and purring all the while. Dimitri had been feeding it ever since the day they discovered it.

Felix's excitement had him hugging his prince tightly—telling him that he was the best.

The cat stuck around the rest of that year, before disappearing the next Spring.

But before that, eventually, it had let Felix scratch behind its ears, too.

\--------

It's probably inevitable that more than a few of the students at Garreg Mach Monastery take to feeding the numerous cats and dogs that call the place home. Everyone keeps track of where their favorites spend the most time, learning by trial and error which individuals were friendly and which wanted nothing to do with humans save for sharing shelter.

Felix is exiting the dining hall after a quick midday meal on their day off when Annette runs up behind him.

“Kittens, Felix!” she exclaims, tugging on his arm, her eyes bright. “Mercedes found them this morning. They're weaned and super playful. They're so cute, come see them!” The mage is practically bouncing her hands on his arm, but suddenly her gaze locks on something over his shoulder. “Your Highness!” followed quickly by “I'm sorry I shouldn't yell at you...but come see these kittens!”

Felix begrudgingly lets himself be pulled outside, the boar following with a feigned smile and a nod. Felix has no idea why he didn't come up with an excuse to not tag along since he is not particularly fond of cats.

Anything to fool everyone into thinking that there was nothing wrong with him.

Annette leads them to the cathedral's upper entrance where sure enough Mercedes, Ashe, and Sylvain are already gathered. Felix rolls his eyes at the latter's grin upon seeing them, because Sylvain is most likely only sticking around for the girls. Probably. The redhead does look pretty occupied with the gray fuzzball currently playing with a button on his shirt. Ashe is literally sprawled out on the ground, two mini gray tabbies chasing each other across his prone form.

Mercedes stands when she spots the three of them approaching, making space for them on a bench and offering Felix the last of the litter, arms outstretched with a smile. “Sylvain told us you get this one,” she says, too innocently.

“Sylvain's an ass,” Felix replies, but he holds out his hands to take the cat anyway.

It's an orange tabby.

Sitting down he lets the kitten loose on his lap. It's just barely heavy enough for him to feel the tiny pinprick of claws through the material of his clothes while he traces a finger across his leg for it to chase.

“Good thing I have this precious, fragile baby as a shield against your revenge,” Sylvain comments from where he's leaning on the wall.

Annette plops down next to Felix on the bench, cooing ridiculously in turn. “Aww, but it's a cute story.”

“Especially since His Highness doesn't like cats,” Ashe muses.

“Come now, it's not as if I was going to leave it injured.” the boar comments, amusement tainting his voice. “And you were so happy when you saw it walking again.”

Felix can feel blue eyes directed at him while dutifully ignores the urge to look up. Feels the familiar spike of anger and bites back a sharp retort for the sake of his other classmates...and to not disturb the kitten that is in the progress of attempting to jump from his lap to Annette's. Stupid. They'd been at the academy for months and the idiot boar kept _reaching_. Trying to bridge the gap that Felix had trenched between them. As if his empty words could change anything.

Ashe suddenly sat up, pointing. “The mom's back with the last one.”

Gaze finally drifting up Felix sees the boar prince crouch to hold out a hand, everyone's attention shifted to the newcomers. The fifth kitten is another orange tabby, as is the mother, except this one is missing the last couple of inches off its tail. New skin covers the injury, though, and it's clearly all healed: either by nature or by some healer that had taken pity on it.

The mother cat continues on by the proffered hand to sit at Ashe's feet. The kitten, too, ignores the lowered limb, instead springing up in an attempt to latch onto the dangling edge of the blue cape behind it. Sylvain and Annette burst into laughter as it misjudges the jump, attaching itself to its fellow beast's hip instead. It immediately starts scampering upwards, nails catching and surely snagging as it climbs, and Felix can't help but laugh as well. That leaves Mercedes and Ashe scrambling over to try and help, but the boar just holds up a hand as the little monster settles on his shoulder. The blond's face is colored slightly, a crooked half-smile on his face, and to top it off the cat suddenly switches gears (as cats did) to rub its face against his cheek.

“Guess it likes you,” Ashe chuckles, reaching out to scratch behind its ears.

Meanwhile the other orange kitten has curled up in Annette's lap and Felix stands to leave, swiping back at the brush of nostalgia.

The blush. The smile. The cat.

“Figures it's the broken one,” he grits out as he passes the apparition of his childhood.

“Don't be mean Felix.” Annette yells after him.

“Felix...” sighs Sylvain, disapproving.

He doesn't look back.

\--------

Ironically Felix spends a large portion of the next five years _looking_. 

But animals that do not wish to be found generally succeed in remaining out of sight.

\--------

Dimitri is found.

The Blue Lions reunite at Garreg Mach.

Dimitri is lost.

Five years later and some of the less seasoned horses act up around the boar. Felix imagines their instincts scream at them to keep away, the beast's true self now revealed to the rest of the world.

Bloodlust of a predator. Dangerous in close proximity. The animal could snap at any of them at any time.

It certainly doesn't need a lance in its hand to wound.

Yet the former Blue Lions class and their professor stick near.

Admittedly, Felix has to include himself on the list of insane...guards? Observers? He doesn't know.

“You need to do something about that thing,” he tells the professor late one evening. The beast stands at its usual haunt nearby, stationed in front of the pile of rubble that is now the focal point of the cathedral, its head bowed. After the first night Felix has specifically put himself far enough away to not be able to hear the nonsensical mutterings. 

“He won't talk to me either. Doesn't want to listen,” seafoam hair shifts with the slight shake of the professor’s head. “Doesn't want the help.”

“Unless the help is us risking our lives for it,” projected across empty expanse, bouncing off itself.

No response. No acknowledgment. It's blind. Maybe desensitized to their presence in particular since he and the professor spend the most time standing by. He wants nothing more than to beat the shit out of hi—the thing, but recognizes that it will get him nowhere, would probably just earn him blood. Felix has had a rather grating realization that his (unhealthy) coping mechanism—violence verbally or physically—is not going to do any good for himself or anyone else here. He makes a frustrated noise, running a hand through his hair. How absurd that he would feel any sort of regret or _care_ about this shortcoming now, five years later, when prior to that there had been almost a year of avoidance and open animosity.

He belatedly notices that the professor has raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“I am at a loss for what to do and I am not good at standing idle,” he snaps.

A sigh. “For starters, animals generally do not respond well to threatening vibes.”

“This one might if I push it hard enough.”

An actual slight _frown_, piercing eyes disapproving. “You know that's not going to help.”

Felix actually wishes he knew what would. He'd sleep better not having to stand watch all the time.

\--------

There is a minute on the Myrddin Bridge where it appears that the animal that leads them may yet retain some humanity; speaking rationally to a resurrected follower, and Felix won’t deny the fact that it is nice to have the Duscurian retainer back on their front lines. Nevertheless the mirage dissolves as soon as the fighting starts. The beast brutally cuts down enemies, including former academy students, with no remorse or hesitation.

Felix finds himself throwing a dagger at the wall the next night to keep himself awake. Out of boredom and exhaustion. Definitely not to see if the rhythmic thunk of the blade hitting wood would goad a response from his only company.

The return of Dedue, and shortly after the addition of Felix’s father, has not halted the boar's haunting of the cathedral, either.

A third form appears in the archway, the candlelight stretching its shadow into something much larger than it actually is: a cat. Garreg Mach was becoming increasingly inhabited every day, animals filtering in along with the people. Still it's surprising to see a familiar orange short-tailed tabby trot into view. Felix had noticed her presence since returning, easy as it was to pick her out, but he’d never seen her inside. Now she doesn't pay the other occupants any mind, sniffing under the occasional pew.

Felix continues his little knife-throwing exercise, watching her move about from the corner of his eye. Feet padding silently she slows as she gets closer to the hulking form at the front of the room, ears twitching and tail kinked at its frayed end in uncertainty. Felix almost hisses out a warning, but the sound is caught in his throat, the cat slinking to within a few feet behind the fur-caped figure they are both so conscious of.

It's then that he sees several drops of what could only be blood on the floor, previously hidden in shadow and now glaring at him in the wavering light.

“Are you injured?” flies out of his mouth as quick as the dagger had been flying from his hand; four, five six strides closer before the single blue eye moves to focus on him.

“What?”

Felix has watched the professor try (multiple times) to converse to the shell of a human before him now multiple times, but this is the first time he personally has approached when he knows it is at its worst. At least on the battlefield Dimitri actually responded to them. Three-quarters of the time otherwise he seemed completely uninterested in the world of the living.

“Are. You. Injured,” repeated as if talking to a child, and if he was being considerate he’d take into account that it was unlikely that the original question had been heard at all. There's not any visible amount of fresh blood anywhere that he can see: the lighting is poor, the armor dark, and he already wants to bite his own tongue off now that his brain has caught up to instinct. It was probably just from a newer wound, anyways, broken open in neglect. A scab rubbed off from friction at the elbow.

“No.”

The total lack of emotion is infuriating. Felix stops walking, an exasperated snare full of sharp teeth. “Well your ghosts cannot bleed, so that leaves you. Although I shouldn't be surprised that you are incapable of noticing your life draining away.”

The arm is raised for inspection, or more accurately glanced at, the hair on Felix's own limbs threatening to stand on end with just that motion but at least no additional blood falls between them. He's considering demanding that they at least take off the gauntlet when there's a sudden bump against his leg: the forgotten cat rubbing up against him, weaving through his ankles. Felix crouches down to run a hand along its back, a soothing gesture to the both of them.

"The animals are more grateful to us than you."

“I do not understand why they are back,” comes from above, listless single eye on the animal. Or maybe Felix's hand.

“The cats?” The tabby sits at his feet, eyes still on the taller man. “I imagine because for many of them it is their home, and with people comes free food.”

“The people,” the trailing-off reply, focus clearly drifting elsewhere. “Why return to a half-dead expanse of rubble filled with half-dead people with death on their heels...”

The last sentence drifts quieter still, until Felix can't make out words, the swordsman rising to his feet again and his temper with him. There's still blood on the floor, his concern has been brushed away like fur off a sleeve, and he doesn't have the patience to talk in meaningless circles.

“It’s so useless, trying to talk to you!" and he's stalking forward again, he's going to regret it for sure. “You want to talk about a half-dead expanse of rubble—“

“Felix?”

He stops, looking back to find Mercedes' concerned eyes on _him_, as opposed to the real predator.

“He's bleeding.” An effort to wash his hands of it.

“Ah,” measured between the two men, “I can see to it.”

The healer walks to stand level with him, unhurried. Part of Felix wants to not let her near but he settles with hovering on the balls of his feet instead while she gets within reach and casts a basic healing spell, something as simple as an abrasion not needing much specific attention.

“Thank you,” Felix mutters, following her back towards the pews.

“I think," Mercedes offers in her mother-hen tone, "maybe words are frustrating for him when he is not thinking clearly, and that is not a good combination with how quickly you abandon kind...words." She smiles, Felix's glare doing nothing to deter it. "You know, the professor told Ingrid and I that a guard saw him consoling a child yesterday.”

“I'll believe that when I see it,” he huffs, slumping a bit. He really does need more sleep.

Mercedes has certainly come to pray and Felix isn't rude enough to resume throwing the knife at the wall in her presence, so they say their good-nights and he turns to leave, casting one last glance to the front of the room.

The cat sits in the middle of the floor, tail curled around its feet.

Felix's dreams constantly shift that night. He reaches out to an orange tabby, his hand small in front of him. Feels a comforting touch to his back and the press of soft fur on his skin. Sits at the crest of a hill, at the top of a shoulder, looking out over fresh green in Spring. 

He doesn't know if the point of view is of the cat or the person.


	2. Found

Even as a kid Dimitri preferred dogs over cats.

In his little experience the former were much more trustworthy and predictable, although perhaps he was biased since he was accustomed to his father's well-trained hunting dogs.

For four days after they had found the injured orange tabby Dimitri went to the same spot and left food scraps from supper out, the kitchen staff visibly amused by their prince's determination to make friends with the cat. He'd hoped that if he came around the same time every day that eventually it would figure out about when the meal arrived, and in turn that the human leaving it meant it no harm. He even whistled when he approached, because the dog trainers said that it helped for animals to associate a noise with food when trying to gain their trust.

On the sixth day the cat finally climbed out from under a large tree root after he set the food down, Dimitri literally jumping at the noise and quickly turning around to look. He and the cat stared at each other, both frozen, blue eyes to green. After what felt like an eternity of it clearly being too nervous to approach Dimitri sighed and walked away, and he didn't let himself look back. At least it had come out, that was something.

It had taken another week before the cat let him sit anywhere in the vicinity of it while it ate, but the knowledge that it was even remotely comfortable around him was rewarding.

It had been another month before; on one sunny day, he slowly reached out a hand and it did not flee.

Dimitri had been so excited for the Fraldarius' next visit.

Not that he was not always excited for Felix to visit.

\--------

One by one the other Blue Lions have their fill of the little family of cats, and Dimitri ends up alone on the bench. The kitten with the shortened tail is curled up in his lap, asleep and draped over one of his hands. The mother sits at his feet, eyes half closed while the other kittens tumble about in varying closeness in front of them.

Dimitri should probably go find Dedue before he wastes time looking for him, but he's starting to get a headache and being outside usually helps to some extent. It's easier to distract himself from his headache—from his thoughts—with background noise, so he leans his head back and lets his eyes flutter shut, the buzz of monastery life washing over him.

No one is around to see the self-deprecating smile that slips onto his face.

Felix is not wrong to compare him to the disfigured cat.

\--------

For the better part of five years Dimitri wanders: flees, stalks, kills, survives.

Yet he still returns to Garreg Mach.

\--------

Rodrigue is lost.

They retake Fhirdiad.

Dimitri is found.

Not that anything is that simple. His head _is_ clearer (though it may not ever be completely silent), and they are still at war, but it is at least a little less so with himself.

A familiar stomping of footsteps approaches the old Blue Lions classroom door. Dimitri glances up from the text he's doing a terrible job at focusing on as Felix and Ingrid stride into view, the pegasus knight stopping when she sees him. Felix continues a step before halting as well.

“Your Highness, have you already eaten?”

Dimitri waves dismissively. “Go ahead, I will join you soon.”

Ingrid opens her mouth as if to say something else but Felix tugs on her arm insistently, shaking his head, and with a slight frown she follows him back out of sight.

Dimitri has barely read any more (or rather he's read the same paragraph on Derdriu three times), when the same familiar pattern of footfalls reaches his ears a second time. He raises his head just in time to not be startled by the plate dropped in front of his face and on top of the book, a fork stabbed through a chunk of meat that may be rabbit carrying the threat of the deliverer.

"Don't skip meals," Felix scowls. 

He sighs, leaning back in his chair. "Thank you, but I am not very hungry at the moment."

“The consensus seems to be that I need to babysit."

Another sigh, painfully aware that he is immeasurably lucky to have such a large and supportive network of friends and mentors. He'd been cruel to them all in one form or another yet none had left his side, continuing to care. The dejected look he gives Felix does nothing save for make his scowl deepen, though.

A _tsk_, the predictable crossing of a pair of arms. “Then eat just to keep your strength up. Even you should be able to handle remembering to eat and drink.”

“I am 'you' today, then?” shot back, because Dimitri is tired.

Felix's eyes narrow, but he doesn't look away. “Eat, boar.”

Of course he wouldn't rise to that bait. Felix addressing him with his actual name was possibly the most jarring thing to have changed in the recent weeks. Dimitri's mind stutters with the unfamiliarity despite how many hundreds, thousands of times he'd heard it in his lifetime, long ago. It was embarrassing how his reaction (damn his awkwardness), had become a bit of a joke within the company. He can't help but wonder if Felix feels anything when he says it.

Aloud, his repeated halfhearted “Thank you” followed by moving the plate to the side to expose the words underneath is apparently not satisfactory. An insubordinate hand slaps down, literally sliding the book out of reach. “Empty words unless you actually eat it.”

Now Dimitri folds his own arms, and oh what a scene they'd make to any passerby.

The sharpest edge of the animosity between them has been dulled, but now there was a new barrier erected. Felix demanded action to atone and Dimitri eagerly gives it as would-be King, but they struggle to chip away at finding any semblance of normalcy between them otherwise, still most comfortable sparring with words or weapons, _especially_ whenever they were alone. They were going in circles around each other, trying to gauge so many things.

And so: “You will not accept verbal thanks nor apology from me, then? Only action?”

“Indeed. I am sick of both coming from you. Thanks is not required when we are supporting one another to reach the same end goal.”

“In this case I am thanking you for looking out for me personally. So accept it, please,” pushed back, testing with the threat of a teasing smile.

Hands thrown up in the air Felix mutters “Fine,” relenting and looking away, but apparently it is only to break eye contact and not to end the battle. “I am going to go get my sword. You better be eating when I get back.” Then he's wheeling around, no doubt off to do exactly as he says.

Dimitri swallows a chuckle at the threat, but he does reach for the plate instead of the book.

\--------

They reach victory after victory, until their final destination looms over them all, and the scramble to prepare for the march to Enbarr throws the monastery into barely-organized chaos.

After telling the professor of his intention to send a message to Edelgard ahead of them, Dimitri retreats to the lesser-occupied academy grounds. It is no secret that he excuses himself to quieter areas when things become overwhelming: when he needs to get away from the crowds and the noise. Those closest to him know where to find him if required.

He'd intended to read (again), but the orange cat that seems to have taken a liking to him follows at his heels across the grass, making a valiant effort to trip him via weaving between his feet. Dimitri ends up simply sitting in the sun, leaning back against a bench in the classroom courtyard. The tabby makes a bed in the portion of his cloak that pools on the ground, Dimitri slipping a glove off to run a hand through its fur. With the vibration of purring at his fingertips, he lets out a long breath, eye slipping closed.

It’s blessedly quiet.

He must start to doze off, because he doesn’t here the approach of footsteps. “Dedue said I would find you sulking here,” commented from somewhere by his feet. 

“I am not sulking nor skipping supper, only waiting for the rush to thin.”

“Whatever. Here,” Felix replies with a light kick to his calf. “No excuses. We leave tomorrow and don't know what we're going up against in Enbarr, I need you at your best.”

Dimitri opens his eyes as the swordsman gracefully folds his legs to sit beside him, but Felix is focused on balancing a plate in each hand so he misses the surprise that undoubtedly crosses his features. He doesn't seem to have realized he said 'I' instead of 'we', and Dimitri doubts it was intentional.

Dimitri has chased a lot of things: revenge and death and purpose, his kingdom and his ideals and his heart; and interwoven in all of these, before and during, there was also Felix.

They leave for Enbarr tomorrow.

He is confident they can win but also intimately acquainted with the unpredictability of life. 

Inevitability is a heavy cloud.

Between them the cat lifts its head to sniff at the plate Felix holds out, her shortened tail swishing in the air like the pendulum on a clock.

“Spit it out,” Felix chastises.

He blinks, not even sure what he means to say, but he is thinking of the past and he is terribly bad at not dwelling on it.

“You called me broken, years ago,” does indeed sound just as childish out loud as it did in his head.

Felix freezes in place briefly, amber eyes wide, before adopting a defensive posture, back straightening and shoulders tense. “I called the cat broken.”

Dimitri smiles, looking as well as reaching down, running a hand through the fur of the cat in question. “Do not feign kindness for your past self as if you were not also referring to me. Besides, we have both survived...” and he pauses there with a heavy sigh; stop and start again, Felix being remarkably patient. “...you should know that I value your bluntness. What I meant is...I was always aware of your presence. In the cathedral. On the battlefield. Despite everything. Even now I cannot say that I am not held together by sheer will, the stubbornness of my comrades, and the weight of responsibility. Do you think—”

The tabby chooses to stand then: fore-paws on his leg and little teeth reaching for the game on his plate, her patience with having temptation directly in her face apparently having reached its limit. Dimitri is way too engrossed in his thought process to react much, barely pulling the plate out of reach, but Felix emits a disapproving noise and quickly presses a hand to the cat's chest, lifting her back and away. She emits an annoyed rumble but does not mar his skin, settling again and tail still swishing.

“You're feeding this cat too much,” Felix mutters.

Dimitri, meanwhile, has just caught himself raising a hand to reach out, and not to the cat. “F—”

“We are all worn and battered,” the other interrupts—and if he sees the blond's hand drop back down he doesn't react—“I am sorry I did not know how to help...I should not have merely acted as a wall for you to throw yourself against, only bleeding you out further..." and now it is Felix's gaze that is locked downwards on the tabby.

When had they gotten stuck in circles of apologies?

“I don't want to hear any apologies from you,” Dimitri manages.

A half-laugh, recognizing the joke. “That's the only one you'll get so take it. You may be broken but I won't let you shatter, Dimitri. I don't plan on losing anyone else.”

There is the specific 'I' again, but Dimitri does not have the confidence to point it out. Doesn't know what to say that won't cause Felix to flee.

“I don't want to lose anyone else, either,” he echoes back.

An automatic, rhetorical, non-specific reply—but now they are looking at each other.

Felix, as ever, does not keep eye contact for long, grumbling “Now shut up and eat before this gets any colder,” before promptly reaching for his fork.

They eat in weighted silence—Dimitri certain he had only gotten across half of what he really meant to—both of them offering morsels to the cat.

\--------

Enbarr—Edelgard—falls.

Victory, frankly, hurt.

There was so much to do.

Too much impending politics, too many partings (no matter how impermanent), too much rebuilding.

Not to mention that he had not foreseen having Alliance lands under his rule.

There was so much to do.

“Pay attention,” Felix barks, the clang of his dulled sparring sword against the handle of Dimitri's lance echoing around them in the training grounds.

Dimitri grimaces, focusing enough to force Felix back with a few short jabs. He catches the sword's blade at an angle that briefly allows him to force it up with brute strength, but Felix just leans back and ducks underneath completely, pushing him back further than he'd gained.

“Your mind is clearly somewhere else today,” smirked at him as they circle each other. “Anything in particular?”

“I will never only be worrying over one single thing,” bitterly laughed, “but you do not need to listen to it.” He brings his weapon down in a savage slash when Felix tries to advance again, and he of course knows to stay clear of such blows, drawing back.

“I thought it was my job to listen to the king's woes, or did you change the job description?” followed by another advance; sword sliding up against the lance's handle in a flurry.

Dimitri barely manages to drop his arm quick enough before it reaches his hand, trying and failing again to get under Felix's guard while he frets over his last words. Technically Dimitri has not asked him to accept the title of Duke, having intended to give everyone the chance to return home before starting with the official delegation of positions. Many needed time to deal with estates, to heal, to rest...

Outside his own head he registers Felix easily stepping around his clumsy overreach. The flat of the blade hits him smartly on the side, no doubt purposefully hard enough to bruise. With a grunt Dimitri’s knee hits the ground.

“I think we're done here,” Felix supplies, stepping back around into view with a hand at his hip.

Annoyed with himself Dimitri drops his lance and stands, ignoring the protest of his ribs as he walks away. They'd barely even gotten started with their sparring but he does recognize the lost cause of his focus. With a heavy exhale he sits heavily on the bottom step of the training ring's perimeter, stretching his legs out and bracing his hands behind him. The orange tabby, who had been dozing on his discarded cape, stands and stretches its legs out as well, head-butting his arm until he complies to pet it.

Dimitri watches Felix with a look caught between questioning and hopeful as he comes back from putting the weapons away to sit on the other side of the cat.

"I did not want to assume anything..."

“Seriously?” Felix huffs out in exasperation, gaze towards the sky. "Of course I'm taking the title, idiot.”

Dimitri laughs, because it is so Felix and also so typical of himself. Blunt and unasked versus tactful and over-thinking. Resting an elbow on his knee he leans forward to regard the other man with open fondness. “I thought I lost you,” he says evenly, “and...I need you to tell me that you are not just feeling obligated.”

A long pause. “That’s the dumbest shit you've said in a while,” said to the open air. At the same time the cat decides to move away from Dimitri, stepping across the cape and brushing against the line of Felix's thigh. Felix scowls down at it, but his fingers reach behind its ears anyway, “You didn't lose me,” added under his breath but audible.

And Dimitri stares because Felix is blushing. And maybe they are both scared of having the wrong conversation, scared of losing their progress. They cannot make all the broken years between them disappear. They are stretched across the both of them: hearts and old memories scarred from each other as much as the cruelty of the world. Yet they both still spoke of losing the other in the present tense because despite everything they still _had_ something to lose.

And Dimitri really is an idiot, because he reaches out and wraps his fingers around Felix's wrist, palm to palm, and smiles at the sprinting pulse under his thumb. “You have not lost me, either.”

The cat climbs the steps and walks away.

Felix continues gritting his teeth at the empty spot where it had been sitting, refusing to lift his gaze.

“Look at me?” Dimitri requests, “I am trying to be clear.”

Indigo hair sways with a shaking head where it has fallen loose from its ponytail, its owner bristling beautifully: shoulders tensing, biting his lip and head snapping away, the color on his face unmistakable now. “I...for _years_...” snarled out without any bite. “You _know_. I should not have to say it.”

“Alright,” Dimitri relents, running his thumb along the slim wrist in his hand, but he catches the end of the cat's frayed tail disappearing from sight and grins. “I, too, for years. Do you know what I called the orange tabby, from when we were children? I never told anyone. Perhaps I should have told you.”

“You're insufferable,” paired with the press of a thumb against Dimitri's hammering pulse.

“But you _know_.”

There's a pause; amber eyes finally raising to blue, and two voices tumbling over each other:

“Felix.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me outlining - don't have Dimitri say Felix's name 'til the end  
  
me actually writing - help Dimitri constantly wants to say his name  
  
As always, thanks for reading. This giant mess of an analogy was incredibly self-indulgent, so hopefully it didn't entirely go over everyone's head.
> 
> twitter: [@o3QuillFeathers](https://twitter.com/o3QuillFeathers)


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